Starving Artist
by Moshi moshi - furryferret here
Summary: Ichigo and Shinji are Art students at a small, eclectic Art/Technical College in Tokyo. After a small mishap, they become friends with a ragtag group of Auto students. However, Ichigo's secret and Grimmjow's curiosity might just destroy everything.
1. Chapter 1

Hi-lo! Let's get the icky-nasties out of the way, shall we? No, I do not own Bleach. Yes, this is my story, so please don't steal it. No, you are not allowed to send me hate mail if you don't like my story - just stop reading it if that's the case. Advice and constructive criticism is always welcome!

Just one more note before you get to the story...I have been thinking about this story for a very long time. It took a while to get the ideas on paper, even longer to get it into a proper story, and longer still to actually get it up online. That said, the first chapter is influenced by The Petulant Prodigy's lovely story Tear It Up. I was having some trouble with the beginning (I never write in order), but I did not steal her story! Just a precaution you know. Virtual cookies to everybody who can pick out all the influenced parts! There happens to be one very blatant element that I put in as a tribute :)

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><p>"Sorry I'm late, Icchan," called Shinji as he trotted up to where Ichigo was laid out on a bench, one arm thrown over his eyes as a shield against the sun. "Class ran a little long."<p>

"S'all good," Ichigo said, sitting up. "What do you want for dinner? We have to go to the convenience store if we want anything other than tea and rice."

"Aw, why don't we go out for dinner tonight? The new guy at the gyuudon place is hot." Shinji fanned himself exaggeratedly and Ichigo snorted. He slung his bag over his shoulder, pausing when Shinji's expression darkened.

"Don't look now, but Renji and his cronies are headed this way. Maybe they won't notice us?" He added hopefully.

Ichigo sighed. "What did you do now?"

"Nothing much...just made him look like a total idiot in front of a couple of cute photography students," Shinji muttered, looking shiftily off to the side.

Ichigo threw his friend an irritated look and the blonde put up his hands defensively. "I know them, okay? I couldn't let those sweet girls be fooled by a brute like him! He was being a total sleazebag!"

"Yo, freaks of nature," called an angry voice from behind them. "That stunt you pulled yesterday was the last straw. You're gonna get what's comin' to ya."

Shinji ignored Ichigo's warning look, and turned around in full-on battle mode. "Don't blame the fact that you can't get a girlfriend on me. Those tattoos of yours aren't going to impress many of the types of girls you seem to go for." The bulky redheaded man stomping up to them was boasting an impressive tick in his forehead, emphasized by the tribal tattoos that stretched across his forehead. Matching tattoos ran down his neck onto his shoulders and disappeared under his tanktop across his back and chest.

"Excuse me?"

Ichigo gripped Shinji's arm, warning him to stop. His mouth had gotten them into trouble many times before, most notably with Renji, an arrogant and hotheaded upperclassman from the Technical School.

"What, are you deaf and stupid? I think that's half the reason why you got dumped last time." He cocked his hip, expression pitying.

"Shinji, shut up," Ichigo hissed. Renji's face was turning a peculiar shade of purple and a vein bulged in is temple. Two of his friends stood behind him, looking fairly angry as well, but Shinji didn't stop.

"Although, I'm sure you could get some of the more extreme Harajuku Girls to consider you. Or, maybe even guys? I've heard the gay community is very accepting."

"Why you effeminate little prick!" Renji shouted, lunging forward. Ichigo yanked Shinji's arm and took off running.

"One of these days, I'm gonna cut out your damn tongue," he snapped. "That would solve all my problems"

"Now, now," Shinji said with a giggle, as he was wont to do when nervous. "You know you'd miss it."

Ichigo glanced over his shoulder and swore. "They're catching up. Take this and keep going," he said, snatching off his bag and tossing it to Shinji. He turned to face Renji, Ganju and Ikkaku, and aimed a kick at Renji's side. Caught off-guard by the sudden attack, Renji stumbled and tripped up Ganju, the largest and ugliest of the three. Ikkaku, a bald-headed guy with a serious complex, kept after Shinji. The moment he touched the blonde, Shinji started screaming in an effort to catch someone's attention, his voice rising even further when Ikkaku grabbed a fistful of his hair and hauled him back to the others, giving him a solid blow to the gut to shut him up.

Meanwhile, Ichigo was having a difficult time with Renji and Ganju. He wasn't accustomed to fighting, and he was outnumbered by guys a good deal larger than himself, especially when Ikkaku joined back in. Ichigo's foot connected solidly with Ganju's groin, effectively dropping the man, but before he could recover his footing he was grabbed from behind by Ikkaku. Ichigo snarled and tried to rip himself away, but Renji's fist connected with the side of his face, snapping his head to the side. Ichigo tasted blood. _Great_, he thought, spitting it onto Ikkaku's shoe. _Cut the inside of my cheek_.

"Oi, oi," said a deep, slightly challenging voice. "What d'you think you're doing? Three on one's a little cowardly, ain't it?"

"The b***ds had it coming!" Renji spat.

"What did they do, insult your manhood? Whatever they did, they've more than paid for it by now, don't you think?"

Renji sneered at the man over Ichigo's shoulder, but backed down. To Ichigo and Shinji, he said, "Watch yourself next time, or you won't get off so easy." He turned to go, dragging Ganju to his feet as Ikkaku roughly pushed Ichigo away.

As he helped Shinji to his feet, Ichigo looked up at their saviour and froze. He was absolutely _gorgeous_. Tall, gelled teal hair, a muscular frame...He looked totally relaxed, resting a huge wrench on his shoulder, the top of his navy Auto Mechanics jumpsuit folded down around his waist to reveal a grease-stained muscle shirt.

"Thanks," Ichigo said, looking back down at Shinji, who had finally regained his breath. Straightening back up, he winced, a hiss of pain escaping him.

"Hey," said the blue-haired man. "Follow me, and I'll get you guys patched up. My garage his right there." He inclined his head and started to walk away, not looking back to see whether or not they were following. Ichigo glanced and Shinji, who shrugged, and went after him.

"I'm Jeagerjacques Grimmjow. So what did you do to Abarai?" the upperclassman called over his shoulder as they reached the door to the garage.

Shinji giggled breathlessly. "Hirako Shinji. We kind of have a history of crossing him and witnessing him getting dumped. Then, I kind of intentionally ruined his chances at getting a cute girlfriend yesterday. But, you can't blame me-the guy's ugly as sin and has a bad personality to match."

The stranger snorted, waving them into the garage through a side door. Ichigo looked over at the cars they were passing, irritated all over again. "If you'd just keep your stupid mouth shut, I wouldn't get dragged into your messes," he muttered darkly.

"I dunno-you looked pretty used to it. I saw you let him go on and fight by yourself, even though you don't look like you've done all that much fighting. I didn't catch your name?"

When Ichigo didn't respond, Shinji spoke up for him. "The joykill is Tokidoki Ichigo. He'll get over it. So, which one of these cars is yours, Jeagerjacques-kun?" He was in full-on flirt mode now, his tone light and totally interested, even though Ichigo knew for a fact Shinji could care less about cars. The blonde kept glancing at him, wiggling his eyebrows and smiling knowingly at him. Obviously, he'd picked up on the attraction he felt.

"That one. And, you can just call me Grimmjow-I hate my last name." He pushed open a door just beyond the last of the line of cars to reveal what looked like a break room. A large couch was pushed up against one wall, a gigantic bean-bag chair next to it. On the left wall was a counter with a sink and a two-burner stove underneath a row of cupboards. A small fridge was tucked into the corner near a small round table with three chairs crowded around it.

Grimmjow indicated for his guests to sit, and Shinji dropped his bags onto the couch. As the upperclassman rummaged around in the cupboards, Shinji knelt down to inspect Ichigo's wounds. He lifted Ichigo's shirt, eyeing two rather large bruises on his stomach and ribcage.

"He hit your face. Is it okay?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah. Cut the inside of my cheek, but no real damage. What about your stomach?"

"Fine." Shinji noticed a slight discoloration on Ichigo's left hip and unbuttoned his jeans to tug the waistband down. At that moment, Grimmjow turned around, wincing slightly as he caught sight of the nasty bruise forming on the redhead's hip. He walked past them to the door as Ichigo began to examine Shinji's stomach in return.

"Hey!" the blue-haired man called into the garage. "Where's the first-aid kit?"

"What for?" called another voice.

A third voice called out incredulously, "What else do you use a first-aid kit for, stupid? I got it." A moment later, a guy with long blonde hair came in carrying a white plastic box. "Who's this?"

"Shinji and Ichigo. That's Ilfort. He'll get you fixed up better than I can, so I'll leave it to him." Grimmjow walked back to the fridge, pulling out a couple of ice packs.

"Patch up Ichigo first," Shinji said, sitting on the couch and opening up a bulky black case and inspecting its contents with a serious expression.

Wincing slightly as Ilfort pressed a medicine plaster against his abused skin and holding an ice pack to his cheek, Ichigo asked, "Is the camera okay? It took quite a tumble."

"Yes. The camera is safe, all is right with the world, and the children will sleep well tonight," Shinji said, sighing with relief as he sank back onto the couch, betraying a little of how anxious he was about it while he handn't allowed himself to look.

"Are you photography students?" Grimmjow asked, sitting next to Shinji on the couch. Ichigo's eyes wandered over to him, and he had to force himself to look away when Ilfort asked to see his wrist, which looked red and swollen.

"I am," said Shinji, now checking Ichigo's bag, pulling out a number of sketchbooks in different sizes. "Ichigo's in the Ceramics Department, mainly. Oh, good-your sketchbooks made it through just fine."

Ichigo examined his freshly bandaged laft hand. "Those things could go through hell and back and make it out just fine. Honestly, I don't know why you bothered." He sucked his teeth. "It wasn't my drawing hand, but working with clay's out for a few days. And there's a show coming up, too."

Shinji giggled. "So that's what's got you in such a bad mood. You don't have to pay attention to anything he says," he said to the auto students, but looking pointedly at Grimmjow. "He's got a pretty face, but a mean mouth." Ichigo threw him a look that clearly said _Shut up!, _but he missed it.

As Grimmjow watched this exchange, he took in the pair. Both were slim, average height, and good-looking. Shinji had bleached blonde hair, asymmetrically cut so that it tapered from short layers in the back to chin-length points at the front. He seemed a little effeminate, and his movements were elegant, once you got past the outrageous things that came out of his mouth. Ichigo, though similar, seemed to be the opposite. His movements were rougher, edgier, but held a kind of sensual grace of their own. He had dark red hair that was just long enough to settle around his shoulders and fall into his clear hazel eyes, so uncommon in a Japanese face. He was fairly androgynous, and didn't seem to talk much, but when he did it was often slightly biting. Grimmjow's eyes met Ichigo's, and the redhead looked away.

"Do you still want to go for gyuudon?" he asked, and Shinji sat up straighter.

"Of course! Nothing makes for a better pick-me-up than seeing a face of a hot guy as he serves you dinner! If I could just get his number-"

"His?"

"Hm? Yeah. Gorgeous. What I wouldn't do to get into his pants..."

Finished being patched up, Ichigo shouldered his bag and hauled Shinji up off the couch. "Okay, time to go, before you freak the poor guys out."

Shinji pouted. "You're just jealous that you don't have a guy to go after yourself. Or maybe, the man of your dreams presented himself when I wasn't looking?" He leaned in, smiling knowingly, his eyes glinting with mischief. Ichigo opened his mouth to retort when Grimmjow's voice cut in.

"You guys're gay?"

"Too blunt, as always," muttered Ilfort, packing up the first-aid kit.

Shinji winked at him flirtatiously. "Yup! Is that a problem?"

Grimmjow shrugged and Ilfort shook his head. "No problems here. Ulquiorra's gay, so no big deal."

"Grimmjow, talking about someone's sexual preferences when they are not around is rude," said a quiet voice from the doorway. Everyone turned to see a green-eyed man leaning against the doorframe.

"Sorry, sorry," said Grimmjow, not sounding the least bit penitent. "Ulquiorra, this is Ichigo and Shinji, from the Art School."

Shinji cocked his head, looking at Ulquiorra critically. Slowly, he moved closer, still examining the new addition to the break room. Suddenly, he grasped Ulquiorra's hand in both of his. "I like you! Will you be my model?"

Ulquiorra blinked, taken aback. "...What?"

Shinji was almost giddy with excitement. "You've got a great body! Not too big, but strong-looking, and the look in your eyes is great! You've got just the feel I've been looking for!"

When Ulquiorra didn't respond, Ilfort stepped forward, looking a bit dubious. "What do you mean, 'the look in your eyes is great'? Ulqui has to be the most expressionless person I've ever met."

It was Shinji's turn to be surprised. "Hm? You think so? Anyway, I've got plenty of experience with reading people others find difficult. Ne, Ichigo?" The redhead's scowl deepened further, already fairly unhappy with Shinji and his loud mouth.

However, Ulquiorra gave a small, nearly inaudible chuckle. "Sure, I'll be your model. Come by sometime, and we'll work it out then." Shinji squeaked, unable to contain his excitement over his new find, and hugged Ulquiorra. Then, he practically skipped over to Ichigo, grabbed his arm, and pulled him to the door, swinging his camera bad as he raised his freed hand into the air as if to give the signal for a charge.

"We're off to celebrate! To gyuudon!" He called, leaving the breakroom like a whirlwind, Ichigo in tow.

As they passed the cars, Ichigo chuckled at Shinji's enthusiasm. "It's good that you found yourself a model," he said, watching his friend bounce along like he was suddenly the richest man in the world.

"I know! Totally delicious, and gay to boot! And don't think I didn't see you peeking at Grimmjow, too," he said, wagging his finger mock-sternly. "You totally-"

"Kurosaki Ichigo?"

The two froze at the sound of Ichigo's name. They turned to see a tall man leaning over the hood of a car to get a better look at them. His hair was a little long, and fell into his eyes. When he brushed it away, it dawned on Ichigo who it was.

"I go by Tokidoki now," he said curtly.

"Tokidoki? Why? 'Sometimes' is a weird choice, isn't it?"

Ichigo really wanted to leave. "It's my mother's surname, and I've used it since I started high school. What about you? What's a Shiba doing in a Tech School?"

The man laughed lightly. "So you remember me? It's been a few years. Anyway, I took off the day after graduation-couldn't take it in that house anymore. I've been all but disowned, so you can just call me Kaien. How're things with you?"

"Fine. Look, Kaien," Ichigo said tightly, "Don't tell anyone I'm a Kurosaki, okay?" He'd worked hard to keep that particular fact out of common knowledge.

Kaien nodded, a look of understanding in his eyes. "No problem. Hey," he said as Ichigo turned away. "Come round sometime. It's been a long time, and we never really got a chance to get to know each other."

Ichigo nodded hesitantly and left. Once outside, Shinji threw an arm around his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. He seems like a good kid."

"...He's three years older than us."

"That's not important. Perk up! The gyuudon boy is waiting! Although, he has some serious competition now - Ulquiorra's quite the catch. Grimmjow too, if your recently-acquired lazy eye is any indication..."

Ichigo rolled his eyes, smiling in spite of himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Well hello again! This took quite a bit longer than I had expected, due to neglect and practically re-writing the whole thing. Also, I made a small mistake in the first chapter that seems insignificant now, but comes into play later. Tokidoki is not his mother's maiden name, but her surname. Important distinction.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews! I like getting reviews, and was glad to get some on the first chapter. **ichibanseiken**, I choked on my tea when I read your review, and it took five minutes of coughing to breath again, and good five more to stop laughing! 3 I have to say, that's the first time I've ever heard someone describe wet clay as _sensuous_.

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><p>It was nearly two weeks after the Renji Incident before Shinji could find the time to go back to the garage to see Ulquiorra. He was itching to try out his new model, and by his last class of the day he was pinging off the walls in excitement, chattering nonstop at a decidedly uninterested Ichigo.<p>

"Hey I~chi~go~," he said in a singsong voice that immediately earned him a wary look from Ichigo. "Why don't you go with me? You don't have any classes after this either, so you're free..." He clasped his oversize sketchbook behind his back and rocked back onto his heels, looking hopeful.

Ichigo waved Shinji ahead of him into the Life Drawing studio, mimicking Shinji's tone as he said, "Why don't you go without me? My pieces need to be carved today, or they'll be too dry." Detail work had to be done while the clay was firm but still wet. "I was informed about this show on late notice, then my wrist was injured, so I can't afford to start over now."

"Oh, don't be like that. It's only for a couple of hours, tops. You can work to your heart's desire _after_."

"Why? It's not like I have any reason to go. I have nothing to do with those people."

Shinji chose the easel closest to the cloth-covered dais in the center of the room and dropped his sketchbook on it as he looked at Ichigo in disbelief. "'These people'...How rude. You could at least go to deliver the thank-you gift for their help. Besides, it'll do you some good to socialize a bit. You keep to yourself far too much, and you can't go through life merely tolerating everyone but me and Gin."

Ichigo huffed out a breath, but before he could reply the professor swept into the room. Shihoin-sensei was a long-haired, busty woman with the irregular tan lines of someone who'd been working outside a lot, and a careless air that managed to be slightly imposing. "All right, kiddies, our new model is here. We've moved on to the male physique now - sorry boys. Girls, don't get too excited now, because I've found us a lovely specimen, and it'd be bad if you got all hot and bothered in class." Her reproach was light and teasing as she waved the model in from the closet-turned-dressing room. When a familiar blue-haired man in a loosely-tied yukata stepped out, a little hesitant, Ichigo pinched the bridge of his nose, praying for patience.

Shihoin-sensei gestured vaguely at the dais. "Sit here, Jeagerjacques. However you want. If you're shy, you can cover up with the sheet." Turning her attention back to the class, she said, "Today I want you to take special notice of the differences between the male and female body - not in the obvious ways, Onodera, so wipe that smirk off your face - but in the subtleties. Skeletal structure, muscular definition and development, general body shape. And remember, charcoal only. If I catch you drawing with pastels again, Sugiura, I'll flunk you. Begin."

Ichigo turned his attention to Grimmjow, who was already looking bored, reclining back on one hand while the other rested on his bent knee. The sheet was draped over his lap, but what lay beneath it was still clearly outlined by the drape of the cloth. Desire welled up in Ichigo, and he ruthlessly stamped it down. He noticed a slightly apprehensive look in Grimmjow's eyes - likely, he had been threatened into modeling by Shihoin-sensei - and he clung to the distraction, beginning his drawing with the head so as to capture the expression before it disappeared. He watched the figure take shape underneath his fingers, the smooth, deliberate strokes calming him, and slowly he began to lose himself in the artwork.

"Break time," called Yoruichi-sensei, startling Ichigo, who hadn't realized that forty minutes had already gone by. "Jeagerjacques, this is for you, so take advantage of it and move around. You've got five minutes before you sit your butt back down for another half-hour." She hauled herself up out of her armchair and started moving around the room, looking at her students' progress.

Shinji poked Ichigo, giving him a probing glance, checking to see how he was holding up. Ichigo nodded and shrugged, and Shinji smiled, scooting closer so they could talk. "Do you see Matsumoto over there?" He nodded to a woman with light reddish-brown hair, massive breasts, and skimpy clothing. "She was doing something naughty over there, you can just tell. About ten minutes in, she shifted around on her stool so that her legs were nice and wide open, and in that tiny skirt nothing's hidden. Anyway, she was directly in Grimmjow's line of sight, and soon her head kind of fell backwards, and she started breathing heavy. Grimmjow got this disgusted look and turned away. She didn't look to happy then." Shinji had on a knowing look.

"I saw him move, too, but didn't see why. I wonder - "

"Hey, I look pretty hot in this drawing," came a voice from behind them, and Ichigo froze. Grimmjow, draped in his yukata again, came up and stood in between Ichigo and Shinji so he could get a better look at their work.

"That's not narcissistic at all, is it?" said Ichigo, giving Grimmjow a cursory glance before reaching into his bag to fish out his phone, which had just chirped at him.

Grimmjow put a hand to his heart as if it pained him. "Oh, you cut me to the quick, Tokidoki. Hirako wasn't kidding about that mean mouth of yours." He turned to Shinji and started talking to him instead, since Ichigo was being less that hospitable. That suited Ichigo just fine, and he opened his phone to read the text.

_Hey, Love, how're ya holdin up? 'S been three months since ya started your 'diet', an' I'm proud of ya. I'll stop by tonight wit' some food to celebrate. -Gin_

"Watcha need to be on a diet for, kid? You're all skin and bones!"

"Oh, it's not a real diet," said Shinji, who recieved a swift jab in the side for his loose tongue.

"...Right. So who's Gin?"

Ichigo snapped his phone shut. "My other best friend, I suppose."

"Really – woah! Could you have more charms on that thing? That mass has gotta be bigger than the phone itself!" Grimmjow leaned in to examine the plethora of cell phone charms and straps hanging from the phone in Ichigo's hand. A fuzzy stuffed creature, various bells and jingly bits, two Naruto figurines, and a maneki neko, amongst other things, all hanging from one long main chain so they could all fit. The collection was actually quite impressive.

"It is. They were gifts," Ichigo said curtly. "I think you should go away now - you're irritating me."

Grimmjow ignored Ichigo and turned to Shinji. "Do you guys want to pop into the garage today? We're not very busy right now, and Ulqui would love to see you. Not that he'd ever tell you that."

"Sure! We were actually going to come over after class, ne Ichi?"

"No-" Shinji stomped on Ichigo's foot, and he sucked in a breath, glaring at his friend.

Shihoin-sensei clapped her hands. "Break's over, kiddies. Fun-time's over, Jeagerjacques."

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><p>"How did you get dressed so fast?" Ichigo muttered unhappily as he stomped out of the studio after Shinji and Grimmjow, who was holding his bag hostage. When Shihoin-sensei had announced that class was over, Grimmjow had leapt up from the dais and, before Ichigo had had time to do more than set his sketch with fixative and put his charcoal in its box before the man had appeared before him fully dressed.<p>

"I could tell you were going to escape while I changed, and it's too much fun heckling you to let you escape." He swung Ichigo's nearly overstuffed tote back and forth, amused at the sulky expression he recieved. Shinji giggled.

"If you don't shut up, Shinji, I'll murder you in your sleep. It's hard to believe you didn't plan this beforehand."

Shinji only smiled. "I'll buy you lunch tomorrow to make up for it." He got an irritated _humph!_ in return.

Grimmjow peered into Ichigo's bag interestedly. "You guys have a studio? As freshmen?" He pulled out a small book, but looked disappointed when he opened it. "Oh, just assignments and due dates. Boring."

Shinji's walk was beginning to turn into a sort of half-skip as they exited the building and their destination became visible in the distance. "Yup. We got a good one, too. The Art Department has a drawing every year for the incoming freshmen, to see which one they'll get - we enter in pairs, see? They're not real fancy, just empty rooms around campus, but since the buildings are an architectural patchwork, the studio rooms are all kind of cool."

Grimmjow nodded, examining another sketchbook. "Just how many of these things do you have?" he asked, idly flipping the pages, which were covered in drawings of various ceramic forms and design notes. Ichigo was ignoring him, so he pulled out another sketchbook, commenting, "Woah, this one's cool...is it handbound?" Ichigo moved so fast Grimmjow almost didn't see him whip around and snatch the book from his hand. But not before he'd caught a good look at a very detailed drawing of Ichigo himself on the first page. The image was shattered, like it was the reflection in a broken mirror, and there was a big, irregular hole in his torso, the fallen pieces near his feet. The expression on his face was so unbearably hopeless, and a tear ran down his cheek. _What was that?_

Ichigo had taken the opportunity to reclaim his bag from Grimmjow in his moment of shocked silence, and closed the remaining distance to the garage in long, purposeful strides. Shinji shot an apologetic glance at Grimmjow and hurried after him.

"Ichi...Ichigo! I'm sorry, I didn't think-" He caught Ichigo's arm, but it was yanked away as Ichigo shouldered his way into the small door leading to the break room, slamming the door behind him. Shinji sighed, turning to Grimmjow, who was walking around the building to enter through the larger garage door.

"...I'm sorry," he said once he'd caught up. "That book holds a lot of rather tough memories and such for him, and I didn't think to tell you. It's like his outlet for all the bad stuff that's happened." He hesitated when Grimmjow stopped and fixed him with a serious look, so unlike his previous frivolous manner from before.

"Tell me that the diet and that picture of Ichigo don't have anything to do with drugs. Please. I saw something like that once before, with a close friend of mine, and they died of an overdose."

Shinji looked shocked. "What? No. No! It's nothing like that, I swear. It's totally harmless. We're not dragging you into anything bad like that."

Grimmjow looked relieved. "Good." He stepped into the garage and announced their arrival loudly, catching the immediate attention of a tall, thin man with his hair pulled into a short ponytail over his shoulder, and an eyepatch over his left eye - the white square bandage kind that was secured by elastic looped behind the ears. He looked Shinji up and down, then turned his attention back to the box he was sifting through.

"Whozzat? He looks like a chick."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes, amused at his friend's disinterested assessment of their guest. "This is Hirako Shinji, the photography student that took an interest in Ulqui."

"Hm. Knew he was weird."

Shinji bristled a bit at the comment. "And who are you? You're quite rude."

"...Jiruga Nnoitra. Who was that I heard going into the break room? They slammed the door pretty hard."

Grimmjow laughed outright at this, making Shinji jump a little at its suddenness. "Nothing gets by you, does it Nnoi? That was Tokidoki Ichigo, Shinji's friend, who is under duress, and supremely pissed off."

Nnoitra turned away to put the box up on a shelf and take down another one. "That was your fault, I bet. You have this thing about pushing people's buttons. Cuz you're an arrogant jerk, and it turns you on."

"Ouch. You're in a bad mood today." He turned to Shinji. "Can you go apologize to Tokidoki for me? I'll get Ulqui."

After some cajoling and apologizing on Shinji's part, Ichigo was coaxed out of the breakroom. For whatever reason, everyone in the garage was assembled near the door, lounging in chairs or on cars, dishing out beer and snacks from a plastic bag. Ichigo stared at the party for a moment, then tried to leave. Shinji caught his arm.

"I'm not staying here if there's alcohol," he whispered furiously. "That's just asking for it!"

Unfortunately, Grimmjow overheard him, and was unable to resist saying, "Oh, so your diet's about alcohol, huh? A recovering alcoholic, maybe?"

A muscle in Ichigo's jaw jumped. "No. Would you let it go?" He let Shinji push him into a chair next to Nnoitra, who gazed at him over the top of his beer.

Grimmjow laughed, tossing him a box of Pocky. "Not a chance. Skinny little thing like you needs to eat more, so have that. I'd offer you a beer, too, but you seem against that. Make friends with Nnoitra, there, since you two seem to be in a similar mood."

But, Ichigo had absolutely no intention of making friends with any of them in the garage. He moodily watched Shinji start snapping pictures and making nice with everyone. _I'm gonna have to come here a lot,_ he thought. _Just my luck._

"You look like you need a drink, friend." Nnoitra's comment took Ichigo by surprise, as they'd sat in silence for almost an hour by now, despite the increasing rowdiness of the rest of the group. Kaien had absconded with Shinji's camera, and was dancing in between the cars as the blonde tried to reclaim it, to the cheering of their audience.

Ichigo seriously contemplated taking the beer being offered to him, but shook his head anyway. "I make a bad drunk."

Nnoitra snorted. "So do a lot of people, but it doesn't stop them. What's the real reason?"

Ichigo scowled at him. "You people seem to have this thing about prying into strangers' lives don't you? You're very good at it, too. Why don't you do me a favor and just buzz off?"

Nnoitra surprised him by laughing. It was a deep, hearty sound that somehow soothed Ichigo's temper. "You know something, kid? I like you. Look me up sometime. I'll cover for you so you can leave." With that, he heaved his long frame up from where he was slouched in the chair. Benignly, Ichigo wondered why suddenly everyone seemed so interested in him. When the others weren't looking, snuck out the door and pulled out his cell.

_Gin, meet me at the studio instead of the apartment. Shinji the Idiot will join us later._

_~ Ichi_

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

Clay can be very fickle. If you don't let it dry enough before you start doing detail work, you can end up punching holes in your piece. Let it dry too much, and you'll not be able to do much carving or attaching any add-ons.

Also, I'm not entirely sure how texting works in Japan, nor how it would translate into English, so since in manga they look like emails on a phone, that's how I'm doing them.

_Author's Note: I feel like the end of this chapter was a little weak, but I hope it wasn't too bad. Watch out for the next chapter, which may or may not be on time... -.-' _

_Thank you for reading!  
><em>


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